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Page 4


  She pouted, but even the memory of those ripe lips around his cock did little to stir him. Instead he wondered if Lara had plans, and what she’d think about him and Cara going at it.

  Would she even care?

  “Too bad. Maybe another time?” Cara sounded hopeful.

  He shrugged and smiled, keeping it light, casual. “Maybe. Have a great weekend, Cara.”

  She put an extra wiggle in her step as she walked away.

  “Damn. You turned down that?” The cashier shook his head.

  Johnny could almost hear the guy calling him a dumb bastard. And he agreed. “How much?”

  After he paid and left, he drove home, wondering what the hell was wrong with him. Because on the drive, he thought about Lara. And now he had an erection that wouldn’t quit—one Cara had been all too happy to take care of.

  Johnny wanted to blame his reticence on not wanting Cara to cling. But it was more than that. Seeing Del, a hard-as-nails woman he’d never thought would use the l-word, find love and happiness with Mike McCauley, had twisted something inside him. Then Liam had secured himself a fine woman. It was like hell had finally frozen over.

  If the Websters could do it, and God knew they were a fun but fucked-up bunch, why couldn’t he? Bah. Happily ever after is for pussies. Johnny could almost hear his father laughing away his concerns while Jack waited for his current squeeze of the month to come down off her pole.

  So maybe I don’t have to go the distance. Hell, marriage is crazy. But why can’t I at least date someone halfway decent? Lara likes me. I think. Why not try to get her to like me a little more?

  The plan had merit, and since he couldn’t get himself to even consider another woman lately, he might as well try again. Three strikes and he’d be out, he told himself. The same thing he’d told himself the time before, and the time before that, and the time before… He sighed, tallying up the many rejections she’d already sent his way. A whopping twelve.

  A sucker for punishment, Johnny figured he’d make it thirteen just as soon as he saw her again. On the bright side, no matter what happened at the bar, he’d get a shot at seeing her at Del’s wedding in a few more months. And if Lara looked that great in wet running gear, imagine what she’d do for a fancy dress?

  The thought of peeling it off her got his motor revved again. Swearing—because he could without repercussions in his own home—he hurried into the bathroom and made short work of the tent in his jeans, an image of Lara in running shorts at the forefront of his thoughts.

  Calmer, less stressed, and ready to enjoy the evening, he returned to the living room and sank into the couch. He popped open a beer and a bag of cheese puffs, two essential items in the food pyramid, he was sure, and settled down for a night on the town with Mystery Science Theater. Finally, some guys he could relate to.

  Chapter 3

  Sobs, recriminations, and an hour spent either bitching about the lack of men in Kristin’s life or her new love interests. That had been all Lara could handle from her sister before tuning the woman out. Her nieces, by comparison, hadn’t been half-bad. They’d complained about tuna melts for lunch, begged for ice cream instead of yogurt as a healthy substitute, and argued with their mother about, well, everything.

  Another Saturday spent with the family.

  Lara sighed. Lately everything in her life seemed stale.

  “I still don’t understand why you never finished up your degree in accounting,” Kristin said.

  Lara swallowed the retort she’d made a dozen times since quitting the program two years ago. “We talked about this.”

  “It would have saved you money, though,” her father said. “I mean, what else are you going to do with all those classes?” Mark Valley could spot a dime from across the street and always knew when he’d found a deal. He considered Lara’s “wasted” accounting classes—all two of them—a crying shame.

  “Dad, I can still use a lot of those other classes. My writing and math credits all transferred to nursing. In fact, they’re higher courses than I need to get my degree.”

  “I still say you should have pursued being a CPA. God knows we could use help getting some money back from the government at tax time.”

  “Yeah, and you could have helped me deal with the mess Ron’s leaving me,” Kristin whined.

  Lara forced herself not to tell her family to take a flying leap. She said two plus two, they came up with five. Every time. She should know better by now than to try explaining herself. Still… “It would have cost way too much to continue my education for a four-year degree. Plus, I found out I didn’t like it. Imagine going almost four years”—and thousands of dollars into debt—“only to realize I hated accounting.”

  “When you put it like that…” Her father shrugged.

  Across the table, four-year-old Amelia pushed her glass of milk over with a sneer at her older sister.

  Kay screeched, “It’s coming closer! Hurry! It’s at the edge of the table, Nana. Hurry! Ew. It’s ooooooozing.” Oozing turned into a four-syllable word, and more lunch drama, predictably, came to pass.

  Like mother like daughter.

  Lara watched the mayhem as Joy Valley, the family matriarch, scurried to clean up the table while her husband laughed at his grandkids’ antics.

  Kristin was not amused. “Haven’t I told you two to be more careful at the table?”

  Normally Lara would side with her nieces, but Amelia was a chronic spiller. Last Christmas she’d mistaken a gift of bath milk for the actual drinking kind. She continued to insist bath milk and cow milk had to be the same thing, and took any opportunity to bathe her sister in the white stuff to prove a point—that, like her mother, she was never in the wrong.

  “I thought she had a sippy lid on it.” Lara looked at the table, then peered under it and saw the lid on Amelia’s seat. She bit her lip to keep from laughing when Amelia nudged it under her thigh.

  “I don’t know, Aunt Lara. It’s gone.” Amelia batted her big brown eyes. Like a miniature Kristin without all the baggage of bad relationships. A handful of cuteness and little-sister pranks that made Lara proud.

  “You’re a menace,” Kay exclaimed. “My dress is now a disaster—like mom’s hair. And you’re precocious.”

  Lara’s father raised a brow.

  “That means intelligent, Kay.” Lara tried not to laugh. “I think you meant obnoxious.”

  “Yeah.” Kay stuck out her tongue at her sister. “Obnoxious.”

  “Well, at least she’s got a vocabulary that’s halfway decent.” Kristin rested her chin in her hand. “Because Claude seriously messed up my last hairdo.”

  Lara silently agreed. “You should have seen Rena. You know she does it right.”

  “And at a discount,” Joy added.

  Just once, can we go without mentioning a great sale, deal, or way to save a buck? Lara knew her parents meant well, but they seemed fixated on money. Or rather, the family’s lack thereof.

  Having been raised to scrape by on every penny, Lara knew well the value of a dollar. But being constantly reminded of their lower middle-class status stung. Was it any wonder she had no time in her life for anything but school and work? Anything to get the hell out of this financial hole she seemed unable escape.

  “Kristin, tell Lara about Ron,” Joy prodded.

  The girls didn’t react to the mention of their stepfather’s name. He’d never been more than a token male in the house. Of their biological fathers, Kristin’s first husband, Sean, had tried to be a good dad, but he hadn’t measured up to Kristin’s standards. Not enough money or flash to keep her interested.

  Lara had liked him. He’d been cute and steady, and someone her sister could really lean on. Instead, Kristin moved on to sexy Josh—Amelia’s dad—who’d then left her for someone better. A short marriage to Steve had come and gone, though she forgot why Kristin had ended that one. Something about Steve’s performance in bed, maybe? A few more men had passed through her life without much fanfare.<
br />
  Then Ron entered the picture. Ron had money, so Kristin had married him without seeming to consider more than financial security. Two years with him had been two too many, though. Lara had told her what a mistake she’d made after meeting him that first time. But Kristin knew best and had said she’d found her true “soul mate.” More like fourth soul mate, counting all the others.

  Ron was a complete dick.

  Kristin had shiny blond hair, brown eyes, and a figure that rivaled that of an adult film star. She’d never hurt for male companionship and had a bubbly personality…as well as a tendency to jump from passion to passion without thinking things through. Yet for all her beauty and Ron’s seeming interest, her jerk of an ex had hit on Lara during his and Kristin’s first date.

  Telling her sister had earned Ron a swift talking-to, then instant forgiveness on Kristin’s part. Kristin wanted an escape from the Valley family’s social status as badly as Lara did. To Kristin’s credit, she wanted something better for her children, not just herself. But Ron had been a bad decision from the get-go.

  “Yeah, Kristin. Tell me what Ron wants now.” Something other than in my pants, I can only hope.

  “He said he’d settle with me if we cut out all the lawyers.” Kristin nodded. “Believe it or not, I agree with him. It’s costing us a bundle.” At Lara’s look, Kristin snapped, “Fine, it’s costing him a bundle. Happy?”

  “Not really.”

  “Point is, he wants the financial discussions to go through you, since you’re Miss I’m Capable while I’m just a dumb blond.”

  Lara could well believe he’d said that, but then Kristin had a tendency to overdramatize everything. Lara wouldn’t exactly call her dumb. That was cruel. Flighty? Unable to see the big picture? Idiotic at times? Yep to all of the above. “He really called you dumb?”

  “Not in so many words, but that’s what he meant.” Kristin sighed. “It would help a lot if you could deal with him for me. Besides, he likes you. Maybe you can get me more than my lawyer could.”

  Lara glanced at the girls. “Hey, guys. Go play upstairs in the playroom, would you?”

  “Sure, Aunt Lara.” Amelia smiled.

  “Okay.” Kay agreed without much arm-twisting. “Can we play Xbox?”

  “Only a little,” Kristin said.

  They left, and with the zone now kid-free, Lara spoke her mind. “Before, when I told you to get rid of your lawyer, you told me I didn’t know what I was talking about. That Richard Parsons III was an amazing attorney and had your back.” Among other things. “So I take it you and Slick Dick are on the skids?”

  “Lara,” her mother admonished.

  “Mom, I told her not to get involved with her lawyer, but she’s so desperate to latch on to a new man, she didn’t listen. He’s not working pro bono anymore, is he?” It took all her willpower not to change “pro bono” to “pro boner,” but heck, not in front of her parents.

  Kristin’s glum expression said it all.

  “Kristin, seriously, you need to stay single for a while. Get strong on your own—without a man to help you.”

  Her father surprised her by agreeing. “Good advice. Kristin, you’re smart and pretty, but your taste in men is terrible. Be on your own and figure out what works for you. Then find a man who fits your taste.”

  “And this time maybe put faithfulness and sincerity before wealth,” Lara muttered.

  “Screw you. I don’t see a ring on your finger or kids in your crappy little apartment.” Kristin flounced from the table.

  “She’s got me there. I’m single and childless. Oh, and happy. Did I mention that?”

  “Lara.” Her father tried to look stern but failed.

  Then her mother laid into her for hurting her sister’s feelings.

  Kristin had been down but not out. She returned moments later, her cheeks a mess of running mascara, her eyes red and puffy, all crafted perfectly to portray the grieving almost-single mother of two. “For that crack, you owe me.”

  “What?”

  “I need you to meet with Ron for me. He said he’d talk to you about the settlement, because he thinks you’re good with numbers, and you won’t ‘freak out on him.’ Apparently I’m too emotional about everything.” Ron was an ass, but he had a point. “Besides, you know if he doesn’t get what he wants, he’ll drag this on forever. If that happens, the girls and I won’t see a dime.” A sincere look of fear entered Kristin’s eyes.

  Lara sighed. Don’t do it. Don’t you do it. But thoughts of the girls and Kristin living with her parents in this cramped house again made the decision for her. “Fine. I’ll talk to the SOB, but I can’t promise anything. Your best bet would be to get a new attorney—a woman this time—and make Ron do what the state of Washington says he should.”

  “Good girl, Lara.” Her mother smiled.

  “Thanks, sis. I owe you one.” Kristin collapsed into her seat, her grief gone as if it had never been there.

  Owe me one? Try forty. Oh hell. I did it again.

  * * *

  “You’re a moron.” Rena popped an olive in her mouth and washed it down with a sip of red wine as they sat in Rena’s duplex on Sunday night, enjoying the rest of Lara’s ruined weekend. “A repeat-offending idiot.”

  “Thanks so much for your observations.” Lara could have done without the tough love tonight. Thoughts of Ron made her queasy enough.

  “And you have split ends. Come on.” Rena dragged her to the kitchen and sat her down in a chair. Then she found a spray bottle, comb, and a pair of scissors, and went to town snipping at Lara’s hair.

  “Call me an idiot if you want, but we can’t all be workaholics with happy families.”

  Rena snorted. Del’s cousin was such a sweetheart and a romantic under the exterior of a career woman with drive. Beneath her springy light brown curls, cocoa-brown skin, and laughing amber eyes lay a persuasive charmer who could talk her clients into anything. The woman also had a way of digging at the truth and letting nothing stand in her way when delivering said truth to friends and family.

  “Honey, you and I have been friends for how long?”

  Lara mentally counted. “Four—almost five—years. Since I started at Ray’s.” Where they both continued to work while striving to make their dreams a reality.

  “And in those four—almost five—years, I’ve watched you put out fires and try to stop your sister from making stupid mistakes. Hasn’t worked for you yet, but you keep on tryin’.” Rena cut a few more strands, then moved to Lara’s front. “Nah, I think we’ll let your bangs continue to grow out.”

  “You sure?”

  “You have the face for it. Trust me.” Rena returned to the back of Lara’s chair and cut some more. “Just evening this out.” After a bit of silence, she added, “And since when is my family happy—or even normal? Del can’t stop charging people for saying four-letter words. Mom’s still as wacky as Kristin when it comes to finding a decent man. J.T. is a manwhore, and I’m hopeless.”

  Lara chuckled. “J.T. is a manwhore.” A sexy, fine-ass hunk of daredevil appeal, but Lara had seen him in action. She knew better than to involve herself with Rena’s cousin, Del’s brother. “And you’re not hopeless; you’re just dateless. Like me. But it’s by choice. Not because no one wants you.”

  Like Lara, Rena had goals that prevented her from dating at present. Trying to earn enough to buy her own salon took time from a social life Rena wanted but couldn’t yet afford. Lara eventually wanted a husband and kids too, but after she’d earned her nursing degree and had a solid financial framework. Not now, when she had more expenses than income. Stupid student loans.

  “I could say the same about you.” Rena finished and swept up the loose hair on the floor.

  “I can do that,” Lara offered. “You gave me a free haircut, after all.”

  “No. If I don’t get every hair, Del will kill me. She hates a mess, though you couldn’t tell from her room.”

  “She’s barely here anyway. Always
at Mike’s.”

  Rena batted her eyelashes and gave a dreamy grin. “I know. He’s sooo sexy. Mr. Romance.”

  “Mr. Romance? I didn’t get the impression he was all that romantic. Good in bed, I get. But—”

  “And then there’s Colin,” Rena interrupted. “I love his son. I’m Colin’s aunt now. Not officially, but I count.”

  “Aunt Rena. I like it.” Lara grinned.

  “And Aunt Lara. You love your nieces.”

  “I do. It’s their mother who drives me to drink.” Lara sighed. “That sounds so mean. I love Kristin. I do. But she’s…”

  “Needy? Naive? Too pretty for her own good?” Rena dug into the refrigerator. Then she headed to the living room with a tray of goodies and a bottle of wine.

  “Yes, yes, and yes.” Lara followed her and grabbed a wineglass from the table. She held it out when Rena offered to pour. “I feel so sophisticated.” She glanced at the tray. “Cheese, crackers, and…tapenade? What the hell is that?”

  “Chopped-up olives.” Rena held up her glass. “Cheers. Here’s to me hosting book club next week. You’re my test subject. What do you think of the wine and cheese?”

  “Fancy.” Lara liked it, but nothing beat a cold brew. “But I’d rather have a beer and nachos.”

  Rena’s smile slipped. “Me too.”

  “Is this book club for your romance-reader pals and that author?”

  “Yeah. Abby’s so cool. I want to impress her.”

  “Why? I thought she and that gang were your friends.”

  “They are.”

  “So?”

  “Lara, don’t act clueless. I’ve seen you clean up your place when people are coming over.”

  Lara snorted. “What people? My apartment is barely bigger than a shoebox. I think you and Del are the most I’ve ever had over at one time. Not counting my nieces.”

  “Say what you want, but you clean up because you want to make a good impression. Same as me.”

  Rena seemed so earnest, so young. Despite being five years Lara’s senior, Rena had an innocence about her, a vulnerability that made Lara feel protective. And old. “You always make a good impression. You’re like Pollyanna on crack. A little too chipper sometimes, but that positivity is nice to be around.”

 

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